That Soft Blue Glow
by rlassie
Summary: After a messy breakup with Ron and a very public shaming, an emotionally and physically exhausted Hermione accepts a job offer from SHIELD. Settling in quickly and forming surprising friendships, she dives feet first into her new life. However, PTSD doesn't just disappear, and with an old enemy and a pesky, intriguing god constantly on her back, will she crumble or stand strong? AU
1. Chapter 1

**That Soft Blue Glow**

Disclaimer: I do not own either Harry Potter or Avengers.

**Chapter One**

* * *

"Are you really sure you want to do this?"

Checking to make sure she had everything she needed one last time, Hermione zipped her beaded bag shut, before looking up and meeting her best friend's troubled green gaze with a tired and slightly frustrated smile. Harry was leaning against the doorframe, his hair more of a mess than usual – if that was even possible – and his eyes following every movement she made. She knew he was worried. One of his closest friends was leaving the country and moving halfway across the world, to take part in something she'd been very secretive about.

Hermione was well aware that he very much didn't like and even somewhat resented the fact that her new job was need to know, and that, to her new bosses, he didn't need to know. He was concerned about her moving so far away, he was concerned about the nature of a job that had to be so secretive, but more than anything else, he was concerned about _her._ She sighed internally as she read that very concern shining from his eyes, just a touch exasperated.

Yes, her life hadn't gone at all the way she'd been planning, and yes, she'd taken that a lot harder than anyone had thought she would, but she'd pulled herself back together, hadn't she? Honestly, she was getting a bit sick of the hovering. She'd made this decision in full capacity of her senses, and it was one she wasn't going to back down from. It wasn't healthy for her to be in England any longer. Therefore, she was going somewhere where she could begin her life anew, though still be involved in the magical world that she for some reason still loved. It was a win-win situation.

Harry, however, along with many of the other people who cared about her, tended to disagree.

"Yes, Harry, I'm very sure I want to do this. I _have _to do this, you know I do. I'm fine now, and I know what signs to look for if that ever changes. Besides, you know you and Ginny can come and check up on me whenever you want. Please stop worrying so much."

Harry sighed and pushed himself away from the doorframe, his mouth pulling into a grimace of displeasure as he walked towards her. "That's easier said than done, Hermione. I know you know the signs to look for, but I also know you. You'll ignore them if you're caught up in your work and you won't have anyone over there to pry you out of your own head once in a while. This job doesn't inspire all that much confidence, either. It sounds like something where they'll _encourage_ you to work until you drop."

Grimacing herself, Hermione swung her bag over her shoulder, fiddling with the strap as a trickle of guilt made her want to shift nervously. She knew that this job probably wasn't the very best idea when it came to her health, not with her spending a week at St. Mungo's just a little under a month ago. But it was just so _fascinating. _Not only did it get her out of a magical community who'd treated her like a pariah for the past five months, it also got her away from an ex-boyfriend who she still wasn't over, no matter how hard she tried to be, as well as getting her involved in an intriguing mix of both muggle and magical issues combined.

To the few within the magical community who were entitled to be in the know, S.H.I.E.L.D was a very titillating concept, as the muggle side of humanity had evolved far further than the magical side thought they had. They'd formed their own branch of intervention and enforcement to defend against terrorism, magical and superhuman threats, and though all of the major magical ministries were aware of this division, no one had taken all that much notice until S.H.I.E.L.D had approached the American Ministry personally and suggested an alliance of sorts. Being both surprised and more than interested in this, the American Ministry had called a summit and thrown the idea on the table, saying that it would be in the magical world's best interest to know exactly what the muggle world was up to. The other ministries had agreed, though many had been wary of committing too much time, effort and personal. Secrecy was deeply ingrained within the world of magic, wands and wizards, and that habit was very hard to break.

When the Asian Minister has suggested a single, trustworthy individual go in and take stock of the situation, becoming a liaison between the two parties so to speak, a quick-on-the-uptake Kingsley had suggested Hermione.

The young witch would be forever grateful he had. To become the magical liaison to a super-secret law enforcing division of the _muggle _world was a dream come true. Just thinking of the things she could learn made her almost dizzy with anticipation, and that eagerness had continued to grow until her friends, who she hadn't been allowed to give any details about the offer to, had pointed out that if it was so secretive, it was probably going to be a lot of work and quite stressful. And considering that stress had been the reason she'd ended up in St. Mungo's in the first place…

No. Hermione deliberately uncurled her fingers from the strap of her bag and looked back at Harry, mouth set in a determined line. Stress hadn't been the _only_ reason she'd ended up in hospital. There were three other, rather large factors that had contributed to that incident, and she wasn't going to turn down her dream job just because it could contain elements that had led to her lying in a hospital bed the last time she'd dealt with them. As she'd already told her irksome best friend, she knew what to look for now, and with being in America and a world away from two of the other contributing elements, she didn't see that incident happening again.

She wasn't going to _let _it happen again. Her friends hadn't been the only ones who'd been terrified.

Letting her annoyance lead her words, Hermione huffed out a breath and tilted her head.

"Do you not trust me?"

Her best friend looked startled. "What? Of course I do!"

"Then why are you questioning this decision so much? It's a good one, Harry, it really is. I have to this – no, I _need_ to do this. Yes, I'll probably work a lot, but I'll sleep and eat as well, because I won't be constantly hounded by owls, and I won't be constantly thinking about Ron. I'll be in the muggle world, so no one will know me over there, and more importantly, they won't know what I've done as well as every other aspect of my life. The saying 'out of sight, out of mind' has a lot of truth to it, you know. This is a good step, for both the magical community and for myself."

Harry muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like "it's not that bloody simple," and his bushy-haired friend smiled softly, walking over to take his hands in hers.

"Please, can't you just be happy for me? This is _exciting_, Harry! A new country, all that wonderful research on a subject that's caught me, hook, line and sinker, and the major cherry on top, no more bloody Reeta Skeeter! How can that _not_ be a good thing?"

A chuckle escaped the bespectacled wizard and he squeezed Hermione's hand lightly before letting them go. "Okay, all right, I'll try, I'll try. But don't expect miracles, my friend, because you moving oceans away isn't ever going to be a good thing in my book." His expression twisted for a moment and then Hermione's breath escaped her in a surprised grunt as he jerked her forward into an awkward hug.

"You better bloody keep in touch, Hermione Granger," he whispered in her ear, voice just a tad rough. "Because if you don't, I'll set Gin on you, and you know that won't be a pretty sight."

Hermione swallowed hard, her chest tightening as the boy who'd been in her life since they were just on the cusp of adolescence held her tightly. Locking her arms around him in turn, she sniffed against his shoulder and held on, only letting go when he pulled away with flushed cheeks. Harry didn't offer physical affection often, his childhood had made that something he found awkward and hard to do, so it was a honour and a rare treat when he did take that step. Hermione smiled gently at him, eyes wet, which made him grimace and grind the toe of his shoe against the carpet as his cheeks flushed a deeper red.

"Oh, come on, don't do the water works thing, I thought this was a happy occasion!"

"It is," Hermione murmured, smile growing. "It really is. And of course I'll keep in touch, silly boy. How could I not? I fear Ginny just as much as you do."

Harry snorted softly and grinned at her, both of them picturing Harry spitfire of a fiancée chewing Hermione out if she didn't write to them as often as she could. Unfortunately, Ginny had been called away to an emergency at St. Mungo's and hadn't been able to see her friend off, but Hermione found herself not minding that all that much. She loved Ginny, the redhead was her best girlfriend, but Harry was her best _everything_, and with already saying goodbye to Ginny the night before, Hermione was somewhat glad to have this time with Harry alone.

If everything hadn't gone to the dogs, she might have had this time with Ron as well, but that just wasn't possible now.

Not wanting to think about her ex in more than one connotation of the word, Hermione shook her head before the thought brought her down too much. It still broke her heart to think of their destroyed relationship and the friendship that had gone down the drain with it. She'd tried her hardest to save what they'd had, and then their friendship when that had proved to not be saveable, but with everything that had happened after… shaking her head again and determinedly putting it out of her mind as a horn blared outside the window, she adjusted the strap of her bag and grabbed the handle of her suitcase.

"Taxi's here," she said quietly and Harry's nod was resigned as he waved her towards the door, followed her silently. Hermione took one last look around her flat as she walked through it for the final time, smiling wistfully at the memories drifting through her head. She'd miss this place. Though she'd had bad times – too many to count these last few months – the good would still forever outweighed the bad. Her, Harry, Ron and Ginny laughing on her couch as Hermione had curled into her then-boyfriend's side, discussing the merits of organic versus normal plants in potion making with Neville, smiling in amusement as Luna rambled on airy about something Hermione had never heard of before, watching Mrs Weasley bustle around her kitchen, determined to 'get some more meat on those bones'…

Yes, she'd miss this place, all right.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye, then," Harry said once they'd stepped out on the sidewalk and Hermione had locked the flat, handing the key to her friend. Harry would make sure it got back to her landlord.

"Only for a short while," the witch answered softly, unable to help throwing her arms around the green-eyed wizard for a second time. She sighed as Harry's arms came around her as well. "Remember, you can come see me whenever you want. In fact, I expect you to come over as soon as you can."

"We'll try," Harry smiled, stepping back but not letting go of her hand. "Take care of yourself, yeah? I don't want my reason for coming over to be because you're sick again."

"It won't be, I promise," Hermione replied, squeezing his hand and internally rolling her eyes. One time, a _single_ time, and they never forget about it. "I've got to go now."

Harry nodded again and stepped back, watching as Hermione handed her suitcase to the driver, who put it in the boot, and then slid into the back of the taxi. She smiled at him sadly through the window, an expression that was mimicked on the face of the wizard that was seeing her off. It was just as the taxi was pulling away that a thought occurred to her.

"Wait, stop, just a minute."

The driver nodded and Hermione opened the door again, meeting Harry's inquisitive gaze.

"Can you just… can you just say goodbye to Ron for me? I don't… we had all that time and…"

"Of course, Hermione," her friend answered, understanding layering his tone. "We've got your cell number if he ever wants it, you know that."

"Yeah, I know," the witch sighed, not seeing it happening anytime soon. Or even at all. "Now, I really have to go. I'll call you as soon as the plane lands, all right?"

"All right," Harry agreed. "Go, you don't want to be late."

The statement making her check her watch, Hermione swore softly and climbed back into the taxi with a quick wave. She turned around and watched through the back window as they pulled away, her gaze on her waving best friend as he slowly shrunk in size the further away they drove. She only faced front again once they'd turned the corner and she could no longer see him.

"Where to, miss?" the taxi driver asked politely. Hermione smiled at him as he watched her through the rear-view mirror.

"Heathrow, please."

Time to start a new, hopefully _better_ phase of her ever-changing life.


	2. Chapter 2

**That Soft Blue Glow**

Disclaimer: Don't own either Harry Potter or Avengers.

**Chapter Two**

_Time to start a new, hopefully better phase in her ever-changing life._

* * *

_There was blood everywhere. Splashed across the walls, dripping off broken bits of stone, sliding along cracks in the floor and forming large pools in the dips. It bathed the ancient castle in a horrifyingly deep red, the smell thick and hot and wrong, and so very suffocating. Hermione stood in the middle of it and stared._

_She knew it was a dream. Some little part of her, right in the back of her mind, recognized the nightmare, the same type of one she'd been having on and off for years since the Final Battle. Knowing, however, didn't make it any less terrible, and at that moment, any less real. She stood at the centre as the blood flowed, horror and despair burning agonizingly in her chest, the signs of war seemingly appearing out of nowhere. _

_But the blood didn't come out of nowhere. She knew it was going to happen, it always happened, there was nothing she could do to stop it. There was nothing she could do to help. She turned her head, a whimper escaping through numb lips as bodies began to form within the blood pools. Severed, cut, broken and ripped apart, they slowly began to turn into the people she knew and loved. The people she would die without._

_Harry. Ron. Ginny. Neville and Luna and Hagrid. Fred and George and Mrs Weasley and Remus. Sirius. Mr Weasley and Bill and Charlie. Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall and Fleur and Parvati and Lavender. Harry's parents, and hers, and even Ron's Aunt Muriel. The list went on. The bodies were endless, taking up every inch of space for as far as the eye could see, and Hermione stood with them surrounding her, hands clutching her chest as her breath shortened painfully and tears fell from her eyes._

_They were dead. They were all dead. Killed by a madman and she hadn't stopped it. Why hadn't she stopped it? This was her fault. She'd killed them._

_She'd killed them._

"_Just like me, huh, mum?"_

_Her legs gave out and her vision wavered, making her fall into a heap on the soiled, body-ridden floor._

_No._

"_You killed me, didn't you?"_

_No. No, no, no. Please, no._

"_You didn't care about me. You only cared about yourself. It was all about you. And I died because of it."_

_Merlin, please, no, stop! I'm sorry!_

"_Sorry doesn't cut it. You killed me, just like you killed everyone else. You destroyed my father for your own enjoyment. You're a hideous person."_

_No! It wasn't like that! It wasn't!_

_Hermione tried to stop herself from looking. She really did. But she couldn't help it. Terrified, bloodshot eyes rose as tiny hands gripped her chin, lifting her head until she was staring into a blood-stained, equally tiny face, the eyes empty sockets and the mouth pulled into a razor-sharp, feral grin._

"_Wasn't it?"_

Sitting up with a loud gasp and only just holding back her scream, Hermione's panicked gaze shot around the cabin of the airplane she'd been sleeping in. They were still moving through the air smoothly, the lights dimmed so that the passengers could sleep, and the flight attendants talking amongst themselves at the front of the plane or whispering to passengers who required them for something. Everything was normal. There were no dead bodies, no blood, and most of all, no tiny hissing voice saying dreadful things that just weren't true.

They weren't true. They _weren't._

Sitting back again, the bushy-haired witch drew in a trembling breath and tried to settle her booming heart. Merlin, she hated those dreams, especially the ones with that new addition. They'd come back a lot over the last few months, having faded until they'd been almost completely gone before she and Ron had broken up. The healers at St. Mungo's had said it was normal for them to come back with everything she'd been going through, but that didn't make Hermione any less ashamed of having them. She was incredibly glad she'd managed to keep the fact that she was having them again from Harry.

There was no way in any levels of hell her best friend would have let her go anywhere if he'd known she woke up screaming at least once a week. Dreamless Sleep helped, and Hermione had a large cache of the potion, but she hadn't actually expected to sleep on the plane, so she hadn't taken any.

Sighing, she ran a shaking hand through her hair. This was one of the reasons why she'd been so eager to get away. She was hoping that her new job would keep her so busy, she'd be exhausted when she went to bed and would fall asleep without dreaming. She'd use the Dreamless Sleep if she had to, but she didn't want to become dependant on it. Hermione was sure that all she needed was a sufficient distraction, and SHIELD was just the right type of thing to provide her with one.

Knowing that there was no way she'd be able to sleep again, the young woman turned to watch the skyline through the tiny window, brows rising in surprise when she saw land and civilization instead of clouds and the rising sun. They must be closer to landing than she'd thought. Sure enough, ten minutes later the captain spoke over the intercom, letting the passengers know that they were heading in to land. Hermione sat up eagerly, the dread of the nightmare fading as anticipation twisted in her stomach.

America. She was in America, New York to be more specific. With everything she'd seen in her life, everything she'd learnt and done within the wizarding world, she hadn't expected to feel so eager and excited by a different country. But she most certainly was. Feeling like the world's biggest tourist, her head swung in every direction as she got off the plane and walked into the terminal, her beaded bag over her shoulder. She'd have to go to Central Park and the Statue of Liberty and Times Square and all those _museums-_

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione jolted at the sound of her name spoken so unexpectedly in an airport where she didn't know a single soul, her wand sliding into her hand without her even thinking about it. Thankfully, her coat was large enough to cover her hands, so no one saw it, and after a few calming breaths, she turned to the owner of the voice standing on her left.

"Yes?" she answered calmly, gaze sweeping over the suit-clad man, who was looking back at her just as evenly.

"My name is Agent Phillip Coulson," the man said, his face a stoic mask, though Hermione did notice the way his eyes flicked ever so quickly to her concealed hands. She tightened her grip on her wand in response. "I'm here to collect you and take you in."

"Collect me? You'll forgive me, Agent Coulson, but I wasn't expecting to be met," the witch replied, tone cautious. "Do you have identification?"

"Of course." The response was calm and composed, giving no indication of anything untoward, but Hermione still watched closely as he reached into the jacket of his suit and pulled out a wallet. Flipping it open, he handed it to the witch silently.

The badge was nothing special, a somewhat plain looking card with a strip of yellow at the top and the acronym S.H.I.E.L.D printed on it. The man stared out at her from his ID picture, face still and indifferent, which unsettled Hermione a little, truth be told. She was used to pictures moving, so it was slightly weird to see one that had clearly never moved in its life. The man's name was printed beside the photo, with the words 'field officer' under that, and then a bunch of numbers and letters that made no sense to the witch, but obviously meant something to the agency. All in all, it looked credible, but who was she to tell?

"Why are you meeting me now, when it had been planned for me to come to the agency tomorrow?" she asked, looking up at the man and handing him back the wallet. Suspicion still flowed under her words, and for a brief moment, a touch of approval sparked in the agent's eyes.

"Those plans have changed and you're needed now," he explained, expression twisting in a way that indicated he wanted to roll his eyes. "You're host is being… difficult."

"Difficult? And what host? I was under the impression that an apartment was being provided for me." Hermione queried sharply, beginning to feel irritated. She did not like prearranged plans being messed with without her knowledge.

Coulson nodded. "It was, but as I said, plans change. I'll explain further in the car."

Hermione frowned at him for a long moment and then let out a tired sigh, her wand slipping back into its holster. She should have known something like this was going to happen. Bloody spies. "All right, Agent, lead the way."

Coulson nodded again and then turned and began to make his way through the crowded airport, Hermione following silently behind him. After collecting her bag – Coulson didn't manage to conceal his surprise when he saw she only had one – they walked out of the terminal to a black nondescript car, the windows tinted darkly, and were soon pulling out of the parking lot and beginning the thirty minute drive into Manhattan.

"So, we're in the car, my explanation now please," Hermione requested briskly, her frown back in place. Coulson threw her a quick glance before focusing back on the traffic.

"Director Fury thought it would be better if you were on site right from when you got here, so that you could meet everyone and get used to the way things are run more quickly," he said in a mild voice, making Hermione snort under her breath. Get used to the way things were run, her arse. They just wanted her under thumb so they could keep an eye on her. "It's been decided that you'll now be staying at Stark Tower, where a number of our agents reside. Unfortunately, the owner of said tower is being somewhat…"

"Difficult, yes, you mentioned that," Hermione finished dryly. Frankly, she didn't blame the person. She'd have a problem with some unknown person being thrust on her unexpectedly as well. "You said Stark Tower? As in Tony Stark? Iron Man?"

"The very same," Coulson agreed, throwing her another quick glance, surprise in the look. Hermione's smile was wry.

"Just because I'm a witch, Agent Coulson, doesn't make me oblivious to the muggle world. I know who Iron Man is, but even if I didn't, you didn't expect me to take this job without researching first, did you?"

"No, I suppose not," the man murmured, and once again there was approval in his tone. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to contemplate the view, holding back a huff. Honestly. They weren't backwards hicks just because their lives revolved around magic instead of technology. She wouldn't have been recommended for this assignment if she didn't know what she was doing.

Smiling slightly to herself, she thought that mistrust and prejudice must run both ways. She could name a number of people in the wizarding world who still thought muggles were the backwards hicks in the equation.

"The Tower was renamed the Avengers Tower after the Battle of New York, and many of the Avengers live there now," Coulson continued, still as mild as ever. "The Director thought that you staying with them was the best way for everyone to get what they wanted out of this alliance."

"I see," Hermione replied, tone stiff as her mouth thinned in annoyance. Yes, mistrust certainly did run both ways. Still, it was probably something else she should've expected.

"That's where we're going now. Director Fury thinks you'll be able to help him convince Stark to let you stay."

The young witch nodded but didn't reply, her gaze still firmly on the passing scenery. She fumed silently as they drove. Yes, she should've expected the abrupt change in plans, they were a government agency after all, and a top-secret one at that. All government agencies considered themselves number one, looked after themselves first, and used everything they could to their own advantage. Her own ministry was no different. Weren't they expecting her to be their own spy of sorts, something she'd very carefully neither agreed nor disagreed to? Nevertheless, it still rankled, quite a bit.

Hermione wasn't used to being kept out of the loop. If she couldn't make a decision for herself, she at least liked to be a _part_ of the process!

Well, it wasn't going to happen again. If they wanted her cooperation, they were going to have to be a little bit more open. That's what this alliance was about, wasn't it? Share and share alike.

The rest of the drive to the Tower was silent, and Hermione spent it staring out the window, her excitement growing with every mile they drove. New York City was just so _big. _Sure, London was big, but a different kind of big to New York. London was a lot more spread out than New York, and there seemed to be a lot more green. New York was packed together and _busy._ There were people everywhere and they all seemed to be going about their business with a single-minded purpose. It was incredible and awe-inspiring and just a little overwhelming. Hermione loved it.

The first sighting of Avengers Tower had her mouth falling open. It jutted arrogantly up into the sky, taller than the surrounding buildings by leaps and bounds, the large 'A' right at the top standing out against the skyline. The architecture was bold, somehow masculine, and gave the impression that it was built by a man who held himself in very high esteem.

_This_ was where she was going to be staying? Bloody hell.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Coulson murmured, just a touch of amusement in his tone. Hermione looked over at him.

"Very, but something tells me that that's not something that Stark needs to hear."

"You're right, he doesn't need to hear it," the man commented lightly, and the slight emphasis on the word 'need' had Hermione's eyes narrowing on him. Was that a sense of humour she'd just heard?

The tiny smile on the agent's face said maybe it was. Hermione found herself smiling back.

After being ID checked, they drove into a private underground garage, and once Coulson had assured Hermione that her luggage would be seen to, they took the lift up into the Tower. It was a long ride. Hermione spent it fiddling with the strap of her beaded bag and constantly checking to see the release on her wand holster was working properly, despite already knowing that it was. It had shot into her hand the moment she'd touched the release at the airport, after all, but she couldn't seem to help herself. A new place, new people, battle instincts that had never really gone away, taunt nerves and changes made that she had no prior knowledge of? It didn't make a good combination. She was a lot better than she used to be, however. When she'd first gotten out of the hospital, a door couldn't open without her drawing her wand.

Shaking that thought away, Hermione deliberately tightened her grip on the strap so that she was no longer fidgeting and straightened her spine. No more. That was in the past and that's was where it would stay.

"Just this way," Coulson said once the doors opened and they stepped out. The young witch gawked as they walked through a very plush looking foyer, stopping at a set of double doors. There were men standing either side of them and one of them nodded at Coulson as they approached. He pushed open the door.

"…don't care if you think this is best, this is _my_ tower and what I say goes! I don't even know this woman, Fury, and you want me to set her up like I'm a fucking hotel? _Not_ going to happen! I already have a nifty little magician in my employ, I don't need another one!"

"Oh, get over yourself Stark, one girl isn't going to cause that much of a disruption! She won't be in your employ, and you _know_ why we can't have her at the base. This is the only other secure place! All you have to do is keep an eye on her-"

"Director Fury, Mr Stark, Miss Granger has arrived," Coulson announced, leading Hermione into what looked very much like a conference room, his voice a little louder than normal as he cut the man with the eye patch off. Both men straightened.

"Agent! Good to see you up and about!" the first man greeted, expression warm. He turned to the door and grinned at Coulson with his arms folded across his chest, ignoring Hermione completely. "JARVIS, why didn't you let me know that Agent was here?"

"I did, sir, you were just shouting at the Director too loudly to hear me," a disembodied voice. It took everything Hermione had not to jump out of her skin.

_AI,_ she thought, using the research she'd drilled into her head before she'd stepped on the plane to steady herself. _JARVIS is an artificially intelligent computer that runs the Tower._

Funnily enough, the computer had a British accent.

"Was that snark, JARVIS? I think you've been spending far too much time with Pepper. We'll have to do something about that."

"Miss Granger," the man with the eye patch said as he stepped around the table he'd been confronting the other man over, strode towards her and held out his hand. "I'm Director Nick Fury. Welcome to SHIELD."

"Excuse me; this is Avengers Tower, not a SHIELD base!"

"It's good to finally meet you in person, Director," Hermione replied, shaking his hand. "I trust there was a good reason why you changed the venue and time without alerting me first?"

"There was, but before we get into that, let me introduce you to your new host."

He turned around and waved his hand towards the other man, who glared right back.

"Hermione Granger, meet Tony Stark."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione turned towards the man who'd so far made her feel less than welcome. He was still standing behind the table on the other side of the room, with his arms folded over his chest and his legs spread in a confident stance, the glow from the arc reactor in his chest just visible through his maroon coloured t-shirt. His face was impassive as he met Hermione's gaze, but the witch could clearly read the mistrust in his dark eyes. He was good-looking, clearly self-assured and more than a little intimidating, and Hermione's heart was pounding as she forced herself to hold his gaze.

He may have been a billionaire, one of the world's most important men, and a superhero to boot, but she was Hermione Granger. She could handle anything he threw her way.

Neither said anything for a moment as they continued to size each other up, and it was Stark who finally broke the standoff. He glanced over at the Director with a disbelieving expression.

"Really, Fury? Her? Does the British magical community consist only of teenagers or something?"

Hermione frowned as the Director groaned.

"I assure you, Mr Stark, I'm not a teenager," she replied coolly, falling back on the frosty politeness that had gotten her through the past few months. "I may look young, but age does not define ability."

Stark cocked his head. "Huh. That's another trait you English magicians seem to share. Stick-up-the-assiness. But, anyway, you don't just look young, Lizzie, you look like you've only just reached puberty. How am I supposed to trust you to keep up with me and everyone else if I'm in danger of finding you doodling lovehearts in the margin of your diary and mooning over some Hollywood heartthrob? Or, God forbid, me?"

"Stark, enough," the Director growled, eyes fixed on the other man as insult dragged Hermione's spine up until it was ramrod straight. "Miss Granger is here on my say so-"

"Your say so? I live here!"

"Well, since you do, I find that this is the last place I want to be!" the young witch snapped, indifference collapsing in the face of Stark's blatant rudeness. She lifted her chin in defiance as the arrogant man turned back to her, a spark of interest in his eyes. "I took this job because I saw it as a challenge and a new start, a chance to broaden my horizons and help grow the relationship between my world and yours, but if this is the way I'm going to be treated, I may just have to recommend that we go no further!"

"Miss Granger, please just ignore Tony, he-"

"I can't do that, Director," Hermione interrupted, voice hard as she turned back to glare at her so-called host. "I've lived with prejudice most of my life, and I was hoping that it would be different here. I can see now that I was wrong! And mooning over someone? Please. Believe me, Mr Stark, I have never, not once in my life, doodled hearts in the margin of anything! I'm not a child, I'm twenty-two and have been a legal adult within the magical community since I was seventeen, which is a year earlier than both my own country _and_ this one! I've seen and done more than you can possibly imagine, I've fought in a war, survived and even come out triumphant, and I _refuse_ to stand here and be spoken down to so severely!"

Silence blanketed the room after Hermione's mouth snapped shut. The young witch closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths as she tried to get her anger under control. Merlin. It had been a long time since she'd allowed herself to react that way. It almost felt good.

"Well, Lizzie, you've got balls, I'll give you that."

Eyes popping open again, Hermione blinked at Stark in surprise, who was staring at her speculatively. "My name is Hermione, Mr Stark, not Lizzie."

"Uh huh," the man said, the sound almost noncommittal, before his brows suddenly winged, a finger going up as if a light bulb had gone off over his head. "JARVIS, get Drake down here, would you?"

"Of course, sir."

"Stark, what are you up to?" Fury asked, eyes narrowed on his colleague. Tony grinned at him and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"These magicians are a close-knit bunch, right? There aren't many of them compared to us non-magical folk, and from what I've learnt, there's only really one school in Britain for all the witchy kiddies. I'd feel a lot better with her staying here if I had someone I already know and trust to vouch for her, and Drakie's about the same age."

Fury's brows rose. "That would be a very big coincidence."

"Coinkydinks happen all the time, my dear Director."

Hermione frowned as their conversation flew straight over her head. What were they on about? It was very frustrating being kept in the dark and she really didn't like it one bit-

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as the door behind her and Coulson opened again, a tall, slender, platinum-blonde man walking into the room, a scowl fixed on his pale, pointy face. Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Stark, how many times do I have to tell you, I won't be summoned like some everyday commoner! I was in the middle of something and- Granger?"

_"Malfoy?"_ Hermione gaped, tone flabbergasted.

"Ha, told you!" Stark crowed as he turned to the Director and grinned at him triumphantly. "Score one for coinkydinks!"

* * *

**A/N - Wow! What an fantastic response to a first chapter! Thank you so much for the reviews, the insane amount of follows (from one chapter!) and the favourites! You guys are awesome! Hopefully you enjoy this chapter just as much, and please do let me know what you think! :D**


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